


Rank and Number

by Starofwinter



Series: How to Make Boys Next Door Out of Assholes [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rescue, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Rank and number,repeated over and over in an increasingly hoarse voice until it doesn’t even mean anything, it’s just so much noise.





	Rank and Number

Anomaly knows no one is coming for him.

Why would they?  He’s just a pilot, just a number.  No one even knows he survived the crash.  They wouldn’t waste resources or manpower looking for him.  He’s at the mercy of the Sep bastards until they kill him, on purpose or by accident.  Breaking isn’t an option.

_ Rank and number. _

_ Rank and number. _

_ Rank and number _ , repeated over and over in an increasingly hoarse voice until it doesn’t even mean anything, it’s just so much noise .  It’s all Anomaly will give the sick fucks, aside from spitting his own blood in their faces with a savage grin.

Pain doesn’t do shit to him.  He’s been in pain in one way or another for years, and he’s learned to ignore it.  He’s learned to shut it out and push it aside and to  _ keep being the stubborn fuck he is _ .  

He tries to keep talking, to snap back and mock them, because  _ maybe _ it means they’ll get tired of his mouth and make this end quick.  It just earns him a few more hits and the sound of his ribs snapping.  He can't even pass out, because they shoot him up with something every time he does.  Might be stims, might be something stronger, he doesn't know.  He feels like he's floating, like that time he mixed up which stim tab to take when, and he tries not to look at the flickers of movement at the edges of his vision.  Great, they overdosed him.   _ Fucking wonderful, good job, kriffing morons _ , he thinks, and hopes they have someone Force sensitive, just so they can hear how disappointed he is in their techniques.  

Anomaly realizes he might have said that out loud when he gets a jolt of electricity to his chest.  That’s new, when did they bring that in?  He curses when they hit him with it again, his muscles constricting, cutting off his breath and sending crushing pain coursing through him.  

_ Rank and number, nothing more. _

He’s screaming it now, his voice stripped raw and hoarse, and it tastes like blood.  A few more good hits of the prod, and he thinks he blacks out, because when he opens his eyes again, the room is empty.  

Blood slicks the cuff around one wrist, and his other shoulder is screaming agony where metal meets flesh and bone, but it’s all muted somehow, like he’s dreaming.  Anomaly looks up, and blinks the blood out of his eyes until he can see Aayla and Bly standing in front of him, just watching.  He forces himself to focus, even though he can barely hold his head up.

“I’m disappointed,” Aayla tsks, and it hurts worse than the shock, “To think it was so easy for you to give up.”

Anomaly can’t make a sound, can’t say a word to defend himself, just listens while the two of them shred every defense he has.  He’s worthless, they tell him, and his breath catches in his throat.  He’s not-  they wouldn’t  _ say that _ .  They  _ wouldn’t _ .  He hasn’t broken yet.  He  _ hasn’t. _

He screams his rank and fucking number again, pulling himself out of the hallucination haze.  He screams it over and over again, because  _ this won’t fucking break him _ .   He screams until he can barely whisper, and he waits for it all to be over.  

Blood drips down Anomaly’s skin to pool at his feet as he hangs in the chains, his lips still moving as he keeps repeating what he has to say, though his voice is gone.  He can’t stop.  If he stops, they’ll make him talk, and he  _ can’t talk, he can’t, he can’t betray anyone if he just keeps going- _

Anomaly doesn’t hear the alarms going off.  He doesn’t see the door open, or the glow of a bright blue lightsaber, or white armor.  He doesn’t know anyone is in the room until Aayla cuts through the chains holding him, and Bly catches him carefully in his arms.  He doesn’t have the strength left to struggle as Bly goes to his knees with him, Aayla crouching at his side as she brushes blood-soaked hair out of his eyes.  “I- I didn’t tell them anything, I swear, I didn’t say anything-” Anomaly can’t help it as he breaks down in sobs, “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t break, I didn’t tell them anything.”  His wide, bloodshot eyes search her worried face.

“It’s alright, Anomaly, I know you didn’t.  I know.  You were so brave,” she says, as Bly shouts into his comm for  _ a fucking medic, where the hells are they _ \- and Anomaly shatters in his arms, finally falling apart now that he’s safe .

* * *

 

When Anomaly wakes up, he’s surrounded by clean white, and it’s the most comforting color he’s ever seen.  It’s not the gray and copper of old durasteel, the red and black of new and old blood, the filth and burned flesh that had covered him after weeks in a torture chamber.  Before he can really take a look around, a soft gasp and a hand on his make him jump.  “Thank the gods,” Bly says, his voice rough with sleep.  Anomaly looks up, and the look in Bly’s eyes steals his breath away - relief and love and worry, and the faint sheen of tears.  There are deep circles under his eyes, and the scruff Anomaly likes so much is longer than he’s ever seen it.  “How are you feeling, An’ika?”  

Anomaly blinks a couple of times.  “You came for me,” he says, just as Aayla steps in, her smile tired but bright as starlight.

“Of course we did,” she says, and Bly nods, that shine in his eyes getting brighter, “We would never leave you.”

“You’re not just a number, An’ika, you’re  _ ours _ ,” Bly agrees, and the tears burn the little cuts on Anomaly’s cheeks, but he can’t help them.  Bly and Aayla crowd in on either side of him, wrapping him up in careful, ginger hugs, and he clings to them as he hides his face in their bodies, letting them hold him together while he falls apart.

He’s  _ home _ .  


End file.
